Who Wants To Be a Pole Vaulter?
by dontforgettherobot
Summary: Robin tells Barney about her infertility. One Shot.


It was a late Sunday afternoon when he brought up the subject again. They were sitting on the couch and he was facing the giant TV, with Robin's back comfortably pressed against his side. She was browsing through several different Chinese menus and trying to pick her dinner for the night, completely oblivious to what was happening on TV, as Barney was changing channels every two seconds anyway.

"Robin!" he interrupted her, nudging her back with his shoulder. She looked up, turning her head just a little towards him. "Hm?"

"Robin, look. Look at that baby." He chuckled, and she turned to face the TV. What was he even watching, was that Teen Moms? And wow, Robin thought as she did a double take, that baby had extremely creepy eyebrows. Did babies usually even have eyebrows?

"Isn't he super ugly? What a ugly baby!" He continued to laugh, and she took a moment to just look at him and smile. The fact they could both shamelessly laugh because a super ugly baby had grown a giant eyebrow was just one of the reasons they were so good together. She giggled. "Pluck your eyebrows, bro!"

"I know, right?" he was ecstatic for a moment, and then he turned serious, his voice settling back to his teaching tone. "And that's why you don't get pregnant at 16. True story." He nodded once, proud of himself, and slid his arm around his fiancée, his hand settling on her lap. Robin adjusted herself to be closer to him, and focused her attention back on the menus. "So I was thinking, maybe pork chops?"

"I'll tell you something, though." He announced, not letting her finish. "If we ever have a kid, he, or she, will look like a freaking movie star. Awesome genes five!" he grinned and expectantly held up his hand, but he felt Robin stiffen up against him. He put down his hand, a suddenly serious look on his face. "What's wrong?"

She hesitated, freeing herself from his embrace and putting the menus on the coffee table. He watched her in confusion. "I just, I thought you didn't want kids." She sat back on the sofa, her left leg crossed under her right thigh, slightly facing him but not looking him in the eye.

"Uh, I don't. I was just saying, in the remote possibility – "

"You can't just _say_ things like that, Barney!" She got up, and he watched her as she paced the room, eventually stopping near the counter to get herself a glass of scotch. Or two.

Barney furrowed his eyebrows, smiling a little in confusion. "Easy there, Scherbatsky." He said as she downed her second drink. He got up too, turning off the TV. "When did this become such a taboo?"

She dodged his question, turning around to face him, an empty glass of scotch still in her hand. "You said you never wanted them. You said you _couldn't do it_, Barney!"

"That… sounds like me." He knew this was serious, but his tone was still playful, a soft smile on his face.

She softened up a little, looking down at her glass. "It's what you said. Two months ago, when you came back home from babysitting Marvin, that's exactly what you said." She put the glass back on the counter, mustering up the courage to look him straight in the eyes. "And I need you to mean that."

"Hey," he said, getting closer to her and touching her jawline with his thumb. "I did. I do."

He was a little surprised when Robin threw her arms around him, holding him tight. He put his hand in her hair. "You alright, Scherbatsky?"

She was not alright. In that moment, looking at their couch over his shoulder, she saw them again. She saw their daughter's curly hair and big blue eyes, she saw their son's suit, his blond hair just a little too tidy for what looked like a 13 year old. They were just staring at nothing now, frozen, hollow. They were not real. Robin closed her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks as she did so, and she rested her forehead against Barney's neck. His grip on her head tightened as he felt his skin getting wet.

"I can't have children." She blurted out, not letting go of him, but loosening their embrace just enough to face him. He stared at her with a puzzled expression.

"I know, baby, it's okay. I mean, I mean, we'd probably just screw them up real good, wouldn't we? Smoking cigars in the apartment, not letting them win at laser-tag… awful parents, am I right?" He tentatively added, still a little thrown back by her tears.

"No, Barney, I… I can't. I physically can't have babies. It's some sort of cosmic punishment or something." She sniffed, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand. "You don't have to say anything."

Barney just pulled her closer to him again and planted a kiss on her temple. His lips stayed there as she spoke again. "I mean, it's fine. I never wanted kids anyway."

"I know." He whispered as he let her go, just to fill her another glass of scotch.

She smiled as he handed it to her. "Thanks."

Robin made her way back to the couch, her legs both tucked under herself now, her hand tightly holding her drink. Why wasn't he saying anything?

"You know, it was – it was last year, when we had that, uh, pregnancy scare." Barney's eyes shot up, meeting hers. "Yeah. They called me back in and they told me. Hence the whole pole vaulting crap."

Moments passed, and he was sitting beside her now, taking her free hand in his and absentmindedly playing with her fingers. "You should've told me." He wasn't mad, he just sounded… hurt. Robin withdrew her hand from his grasp, putting her defenses up. "I knew this was going to happen."

He watched her in confusion, turning to face her on the couch. "What was going to happen?"

"You!" she got up, raising her voice. "You… You want kids, Barney! You do, and you know what? You're right! Because they're going to have perfect hair and perfect eyes and they're going to look awesome in their stupid perfect clothes. And they're even going to love your stupid Stormpoo – trooper." She angrily poured herself another scotch. "And I'm probably getting drunk so we should just drop it." She headed for the bedroom, crashing on their bed with her bottle of scotch still by her side.

"You know, Robin," she heard him say as he walked into the room, "I wrote an entry on my increasingly awesome blog about this. You really should read it, by the way." He sat down on his side of the bed, facing the wall. Robin rolled her head to look at him, still lying on her side. She narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"Yeah, about the pole vaulting thing. You were so bummed out I thought I'd take the matter into my own hands. Of course, there wasn't much I could do about it. Those Canadians really are idiots." He was being smug, still not looking at her.

"Barney, what does pole vaulting have to do with – "

"Pole vaulting," he commenced, not letting her finish "is a fine art." He quickly looked at her, the tiniest smirk on his face, and then went back to looking at the wall. "It requires strength, and patience, and like, you have to jump really high or something, and real commitment. Sure, pole vaulting is for great people. But you know what's even better? Watching a pole vaulting… match. Yeah, and you know who sits at home, smoking cigars and finishing up all the scotch you stole from your Dad's cabinet in Canada while watching some losers, I mean great great people that we love, breaking their spine while they vault? That's right. Awesome people." This time he really turned his head to look down at her, that Barney smile she loved so much. "And it doesn't matter if said awesome people now and then secretly wish they could have a… pole all for themselves."

She chuckled. "Barney, you didn't just compare a baby to a po – "

"Arahaha, Scherbatsky, I'm not finished. As I was saying, it doesn't matter if they secretly do because a) you can have my pole anytime you want, and yes I am talking about my penis, and b)," his tone softened for that one, "it's totally fine if you're not okay with not being able to have something. Even though you never thought you wanted it in the first place. It's not like I ever wanted to be a violinist, I don't care what Lily says, but it doesn't mean I can't be kind of sad because I'll never be one."

Robin snuggled closer to him, straightening herself up a little to put her head on his chest. "Do you want to be a pole vaulter?"

"Sometimes." He admitted, and she nodded against his chest. She understood. "But Robin, I want to be with you first. Sure, I think about baby… poles sometimes." He sighed. "God this analogy sucks, Scherbatsky." She chuckled again, and held on tighter to his waist.

"Anyway, I do. I have. But you know, as I imagine it, I'm never ever pole-vaulting alone. We pole-vault together. And if you're too tall to pole-vault, I'm taking you out of that… arena and taking you home and we'll play all other kinds of sports. Namely the kinky ones. And hey, we'll use my pole!"

Robin was just laughing now, that half-laugh, half-snort he liked so much. "That's on my blog too, Scherbatsky. Seriously, I just write about awesome stuff. Check it out."

He kissed her head, and she turned her face up to kiss him, her left hand on his cheek. "Thanks."


End file.
